Asking after the oblique mystique

“To be with the one I love and to think of something else: this is how I have my best ideas, how I best invent what is necessary to my work. Likewise for the text: it produces, in me, the best pleasure if it manages to make itself heard indirectly…”

This is Barthes’ observation in The Pleasure of the Text.

Why would it be the case, writer, that our best ideas come indirectly? What power lay hidden beneath our floorboards, in the back of the cupboard, waiting for us to grope and grasp at another object altogether so that we may say with surprise, ‘Look what I found’?

When a sudden prompt to write about something nudges me, It’s those hidden little sparks thar are the most refreshing to work with. It is always a surprise to me to find out what I have to say. Your words are very inspiring, and your artwork is amazing!

There is certain something magical in all of this. When I get stuck (as I have been lately), I go back to Elizabeth Gilbert’s book on writing, Big Magic. It reminds me to keep at it–the stories appear and connect is to something much bigger.

Beethoven symphonies–loud. Watching clouds. Hiking by the river or a mountain trail. Good latte in a coffee shop. Playing the violin. I think key for me is going to some other part of the brain for a while.